


Lumbago

by womanfromblackwater



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, au where everybody survived RDR1, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanfromblackwater/pseuds/womanfromblackwater
Summary: Years after the events of RDR, John discovers the joys of middle age. Comedy silliness ensues.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Lumbago

“Darlin’, you gotta go to the doctor in town.”

“I’ll be fine. Just need a good night’s rest.”

Wincing as he straightened out on the bed, John hoped he was right. When the pain had started, he knew it was from taking on extra chores when Jack left for the university. Abigail had wanted to hire on someone to help with the farm, but John didn’t want anyone else intruding in their lives. So he’d kept on doing the farm work himself. 

It had begun as a twinge in his lower back while lifting full water pails, then a pull when he bent to milk the cows. He’d chalked it up to hard work and kept going. The aches and pains had gotten steadily worse, though, and now he found himself wondering if he could stand up even if he tried. Abigail tucked the blanket around him, not wanting him to strain himself reaching for it. 

“If it ain’t better in the morning, will you please go to the doctor? I hate seein’ you like this.”

John was about to argue until he saw the genuine concern in her eyes.

“If it’ll stop you worryin’, I will. Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, John.”

——————————————————————————————

The next morning John found that while he hadn’t gotten worse, he certainly hadn’t gotten better, either. So he found himself loaded onto their wagon and headed for the doctor in Blackwater. As much as he hated needing to go into town for help, he was looking forward to the possibility of some relief from the pain. 

“You alright driving?”

“Course I am. Nothin’ wrong with my hands.” He felt Abigail tense next to him and softened his tone. “I’m fine. Everything’s gonna be fine. You worry too much.”

“I worry ‘cause I love you. Ain’t ready to lose you just yet, John Marston.”

He chuckled. Everything he’d been through, it would take more than a back spasm to take him out. 

By the time they’d reached Blackwater, he was glad the ride was over. Going over bumps on the hard wooden seat had been even worse than usual, and he fought the urge to hold his back as he headed towards the doctor. He’d sent Abigail to run errands for the ranch. Last thing he needed was his wife seeing him all weak and vulnerable on a doctor’s table. 

He’d always hated needing to go into towns and cities, and that feeling had gotten worse as time had passed. Everything seemed so sharp and clinical, a sharp contrast to the rustic hominess they’d maintained at Beecher’s Hope. Sitting in the doctor’s office, he hardly even recognized half the tools hanging on the walls. 

After what he felt was a wholly unnecessary series of questions and examinations, he was finally able to explain the problem that had actually brought him. The doctor narrowed his eyes. 

“You say you maintain a ranch by yourself?”

“Yessir. My son helps when he’s home, but he’s off studying now. Goes to college, my boy.”

John never missed an opportunity to share that particular fact, but the doctor seemed unimpressed. 

“Mr. Marston, you are nearing fifty years old. A man of your age should be doing less than half of the physical labor you’ve described. It’s no wonder you’ve developed lumbago.”

John froze. This could not be happening. After years of kicking and yelling at Uncle, was this some kind of divine retribution? Had he brought this on himself? He just nodded as the doctor gave him instructions on pain management and insisted that he find some help with the ranch chores. He remained in a daze as he paid the doctor and headed back to the wagon. 

——————————————————————————————

John had just gotten settled into bed, lying on his stomach with a hot water bottle over his back, when he heard shouting in the kitchen. He had no idea how Uncle was even still alive, let alone spirited enough to be as much of a nuisance as he was. 

“You’ll pump the water or you’ll starve, old man, see if I care!”

“Why can’t John do it?”

John couldn’t help but laugh at the reply. 

“He can’t, he’s got lumbago!”


End file.
